Are delivery guys the most incompetent and needlessly surly dudes on the planet? I just found a box on my porch, despite the address clearly being for next door. I called the number on the package, and it turns out I'm expected to know sign language because of course no English speakers are hired to answer phones anymore. After spending more time rehearsing that "
who's on first" routine than it would have taken to drive next door myself, they claimed to have sent a delivery guy to fix their error. I've not seen hair, hide or hiney of him. Likely went to the wrong town, I hope he got carjacked in some sh!thole city like he deserves.
The package is still here, on my porch. It's from a medical supply company, and for all I know the recipient will die without it.
It seems like such a waste to drive such short distances, (
I drive only classic American cars, meaning it takes multiple gallons just to make the engine start) but if that package is still on my porch by next week I will be forced to deliver it myself. (
Deliveries sitting on porches are like a "welcome" sign to burglars, and there's only so many shootings that can happen on one property before people start talking.)
The thing that really gets in my craw is the fact that they confused my tastefully restrained, classy-yet-humble abode with either the
rat infested slum-dumpster next door to the left of me, or the
tacky loin-shrimp-compensating-mcmansion next door to the right.
HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL THE DIFFERENCE?!?!?!